Lioness Rising
by The Lioness Lives
Summary: What would happen if when the Pevensies came to Narnia another human was already there? A human whose destiny was to protect them no matter what the cost? Weirdness, Laughs, Action, Romance, and General Randomness Ensue!  Peter and Edmund/OCs R&R!
1. Welcome to my Nightmare

Welcome to my Nightmare

When hiding from Wolves, it is best to choose a Wolf pack that cannot talk to be the one you are hiding from. I, stupidly, decided that that rule was bunk. This was probably how I ended up running through the forest, trying not to get eaten. Yeah, I was, and still am, pretty stupid.

I should probably explain my rather odd behavior, but I won't because I had to get to the Four _now. _I mean, NOW now.

They had supposedly arrived a few hours ago, stumbling through the Wardrobe, into this lovely, mythical, scary, weird Land of Narnia. And now they were on the run. And their little brother had betrayed them. I mean, sheesh, couldn't they have avoided imminent death for a few hours? At least enough time for me to actually get to them. And keep them safe, blah, blah, blah.

Oh, crap. Just my luck. I see them. Hooray! Except I'm leading the Wolves _right to them_. Veering to the left, I started running in the other direction, towards the Beaver's house. Maybe I could lose them there. I sure hoped so. I may be one of the best warriors of Narnia, have the war name The Lioness, and be able to defeat a fully-grown male Faun with a single blow, but I'm 16, for crying out loud! And I'm a girl! And they're Wolves! There's, like, twenty of 'em! And there's only one of me!

_Oh, stop whining and run, _I told myself_. _So, I did.

My heart was racing, my breath was getting ragged, I was terrified, and I was steadily losing stamina, but I was elated. They're _here_! Finally! They're not what I'd imagined but still! They're here! That's what really matters. Yes! I saw them. The Four! Here! In Narnia! _I can die now_, I thought. But first, I had to put up a fight to keep them safe. I had to get them to Aslan. I will, no matter what. I would willingly die, hundreds of times for them to be safe. First step: get rid of the Wolves. And the Witch.

There! Beaver's Dam. I can lose them here. Drawing my sword, I threw myself into the task of, well, hacking a hole in Mr. Beaver's dam so I could escape. _Sorry Beaver. Hope you don't mind. _

Leaping through the dam, I ran into the tunnel. Too late, I realized my mistake.

_They escaped through the tunnel. You idiot. Well, can't exactly go back now, can I?_

Mentally swearing at myself, I raced through the tunnel. Hey, it was the least I could do. I would protect them. Even if it cost me my life. I've been dead many times, in more than one way. Today might be just another time.

I am Sir Alexa Katherine Ride, The Lioness, Daughter of Aslan, Knight of the Table of Aslan, Swordmaiden of Narnia, and Protector of the Four.

This is my story.

Good luck, and welcome to my nightmare.


	2. Meeting the Four, Sort of

**AN: Thanks guys! By the way, the character Becca (mentioned here, but not in the story yet) is dedicated to my friend, Becca. You rock, Bex! **

I ran through the tunnel, gasping for air, but sprinting like my life depended on it, which, now that I thought about it, it did. My life and the lives of the Four, that is. I spotted light ahead. The end of the tunnel. Or, not. The light had disappeared. They had covered up the exit so the wolves couldn't get out. But in doing that, they had made sure that I couldn't get out as well. Well, then. I would just have to do this the hard way. Jumping up, I slammed my feet into the barrier, which turned out to be a barrel full of water. Ow. I kicked the barrel again. It didn't budge.

So, I resorted to the old standby: yelling at the top of my lungs. "BEAVER! LET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU IDIOT! IT'S ME, ALEXA! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! BEAVER! ANSWER ME! BY THE LION, BEAVER! MOVE THE FREAKIN' BARREL BEFORE I MAKE YOU SORRY YOU WERE EVER BORN! I CAN DO THAT! AND I WILL! AND YOU KNOW IT!"

I was about to yell some more, when the barrel was rolled aside, and Beaver's face was silhouetted in the opening. I leaped out of the hole, performed a flip while still in mid-air, twisted around, swatted Beaver out of the way, and planted a solid kick on the barrel, making it fly into place. After that slightly showy display, I turned around and got a good look at Narnia's saviors. I'll admit it. They were pathetic. Completely and utterly pathetic.

The oldest was at least my age, and athletic looking, but other than that, the only thing you could say was kingly about him was that he was handsome. I won't deny it. I'd have to be completely blind to not notice it, but _still._

The second oldest was a girl, and I knew right away that we wouldn't be besties, let alone get along very well. She had the "I'm much smarter than you and therefore you are dirt" look about her.

The younger one seemed so small. Tiny. No more than nine years old. She looked at me with the awe I've come to expect from most people who had seen what I could do for the first time.

Something was missing though. Let's see, we've got the athletic, heroic heartthrob, the know-it-all, conceited girly-girl, and the optimistic, silly little sister. Oh! That's what we were missing. The annoying, sarcastic, bratty little brother.

"Where's the Fourth?," I asked Beaver.

"What, no welcome?," he replied.

"Not after that reception."

"Okay, okay. The fourth, well. . . "

"Get on with it and tell me already or I'll go looking for it myself. And I won't be nice about it."

"He betrayed them, Alexa."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud! I gotta deal with a missing, treacherous king now? Can't you keep track of _four children?"_

"We have a hard enough job keeping track of you."

"I. Don't. Freaking. Care. What, may I ask, am I supposed to do now?"

"Becca, maybe?"

"Becca can't. She's wounded."

"How?"

"We don't have time. You four, up that tree. Now."

They followed orders, thankfully.

The wolves burst out of the tunnel, at the exact moment I dropped from the tree.

"Evening, gents."

"Hello, Alexa." I hate talking to Maugrim. He's an idiot who's very clever. I know, it's an oxymoron, but it's the only way to describe him. Besides evil, that is.

I will explain myself now. I'm a double agent. I seem to be on the Witch's side, but I'm really on Aslan's.

"Have you found them?"

"No, but I think they went North. Toward Her Majesty's palace. They're going to get they're brother. I don't wish them luck." We both laughed.

"Well, if you find them, tell us, and then kill them.

"Of course. The same instructions to you."

They left. Thank Aslan. I silently counted to thirty, and then signaled the Four and the Beavers down.

"Who are you?," the older boy, who I had affectionately nick-named Blondie, asked.

"We walk, and then we talk. Move."

He didn't reply, just started walking. I had hoped he would hold his ground, maybe show some backbone, but he apparently had none.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen, saw his dark blue eyes flash.

Hmmm, a mind reader. He might have magic. I tried to go into his head, but found it blocked with strong walls and boundaries. No matter how hard I pushed, he wouldn't let me in. He was untrained, but very strong. That was good. A strong-minded, magical king can be just as powerful as a weak-minded, warrior one. Now, if he was both, well then. That would be _very ideal._

An hour later, we were ready to hit the sack, or the ground, as we didn't have any blankets. I made the fire, while Blondie watched me. "How do you do that?," he asked.

"Do what?"

"Make the fire without even watching it. And I saw you actually start it. You didn't use a tinder box, or matches or anything like that. You just looked at it and said a funny word and your hands, it's like they glowed. They glowed green, and then there was a fire. It sounded like you said 'Avra', but I've never heard that before. What is it?"

"You ask a lot of questions." He laughed.

"I'm just so confused and amazed. What is this place? Why are we here? Why am_ I here? Why does everyone keep calling me 'Your Majesty'? And who are you?"_

"Well, first off, what I did was magic. If you say a word, like avra-" The fire leaped up."-then I can control anything physical thing. Avra is the ancient word for 'fire'. I can control fire when I say the word. Does that make sense?"

"Not at all, but whatever. Nothing seems to make sense here, so I guess it's normal." Now it was my turn to laugh.

"For your second question: we're in Narnia. You and your siblings are here to help restore it. You will be the kings and queens. You, personally, will be High King, that is, unless your brother's older than you are."

"He isn't."

"Well, that's good. Because I'm not accustomed to bowing to men who are older than I am. In fact, I rarely bow to anyone."

"I can believe that."

"But, as for who I am, well, I'm the Lioness. That's about it. I fight, I never lose. Ever. Get used to it. But my real name is Alexa. Alexa Ride."

"My name's Peter Pevensie. Not Blondie. Wait! How the heck did I just do that?"

"I knew it! You're a mind-reader."

"Can you teach me? I don't want to be in everyone's mind for the rest of my life."

"Yes, but you never know. It might come in handy. You'll be a politician, but you better be the first honest politician, or you won't live to be eighteen." He laughed, again. "I'll teach you more in the morning. But for now, get some sleep."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to take first watch. Don't make me knock you out."

He grinned as he lay down, and was soon fast asleep. I couldn't help but notice that he looked much younger when he slept, more vulnerable, less guarded. I decided I liked Peter Pevensie. I just hoped I could get along with the other three.

**AN: Alex seems really concieted in this chapter. I know, it seems like she is, but she's not a Mary Sue. She's very cinical, and wary of anyone new. Actually, ahe's scared because of some epicly bad family history, so she's scared to trust. She degrades people in her head, so she believes that she can take them if they're a threat. She's pretty insecure and not the most friendly in the beggining. I hope you understand. It's pretty complicated. Please review! 5 reviews and another chapter! Thanks so much!**


	3. A Long Walk, Rabbit Poop, and New Words

**AN: Because Jeajoong1 asked me (thanks Jeajoong1 You rock), I'm going to post again.******** Al**ex teaches Peter and Lucy magic in this chapter, so it gets a little boring. Sorry if you don't like it. It's essential though, because I have Peter and Lucy use magic later on, in a scene that wasn't in the movie, (I'll give you a hint: training in Aslan's Camp,) and that would be hard to understand if you hadn't read this chapter. I've also always wondered what they did during the walk. So, this is sort of my deleted scenes chapter. Thanks! And, as always, review!

I yawned, stretched, and then started making breakfast from the supplies in my pack: frozen sausage, bread, butter, and some apples. All in all, not bad for me. I got water by melting some snow, and yanked out my frying pan. Restarting the fire was easy: it always was with me. Then, I started my sword exercises. The smell of frying sausage woke everyone up. The three Pevensies eyes widened and their mouths fell open at the sight of me doing what I do best: fighting.

"Could . . . could you teach me how to do that?," Peter asked.

"You'll need a sword to learn, but you'll be getting one soon enough, if I'm not mistaken." His eyes lit up. "But for now, eat. You'll need your strength. All of you will. It's a long walk to Aslan's camp, where your army is waiting."

"What army?," the older girl asked.

"The army that your older brother's gonna lead."

"What?," Peter asked.

"Never mind."

"Tell me. Now."

"I can't."

"Why not? I'm supposed to be a king, aren't I? Shouldn't you take orders from me or something? At least tell me why."

"Oh, so now you're playing _that_ card."

"Yes, so tell me why."

"Do you want to find your brother?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll lead the army. That's why. Now, shall we?" We started to walk.

"You told me you would teach me some magic last night." Peter said.

"Alright then. Your training starts now."

"So, how do I control whose mind I go into?"

"First, you need to learn how to find your magic, and then how to tell it where to go."

"How do I do that?"

"What are you guys talking about?," the younger girl asked.

"I'm teaching your older brother some magic."

"Can you teach me?"

"I need to know your name first, so you know when I'm talking to you. I can't just say 'Hey, you!,' every time I need to get your attention."

"Oh. Well, my name's Lucy."

"Do you mind if I go into your head? I need to know whether you have magic or not."

"Okay. You can. Will it hurt?"

"I shouldn't."

"Oh."

Peter grinned. "You're scaring her, Alex."

"That's my job. I'm supposed to scare people. It's become a habit. Sorry. But, do you mind?"

Lucy thought for a moment. "No."

"'Kay."

I slid softly, gently into her mind. There was power there, not as much as Peter, but still it was there.

"Yes, you've got magic. Okay, I'll teach you. So, the easiest way for me to find my magic, is to think of the person I love the most, or to think of my favorite place to be. With me, I think of my mother, or I think of Cair Paravel in summer, when there are fauns and centaurs there. Or when I'm flying, using my magic and I feel as if I can do anything. That's all you have to do.

Once you know what or where you would love to be with or at, then you go deeper. If you go deep enough, then it feels as though you are really there. Then go deeper again. You should see a light. It should be colored a certain color but not be a certain color either. It's hard to explain. When I first found my magic, it was a dark green, but I could see all sorts of other colors, even some that I hadn't known where colors. It's easier if you close your eyes at first. Try it."

They both closed their eyes. Almost instantly, Peter and Lucy's faces relaxed. A goofy smile was on Lucy's face and Peter just looked, calm, contented, almost as vulnerable and childlike as when he was sleeping, but happier. I walked in between them, keeping them from tripping over the occasional root or log.

Peter found his magic first.

"I see . . . blue. Just blue one minute, and then there's a billion colors, but they're all blue. It's weird."

"Do you see anything, Lucy?," I asked.

"Yes. I see purple. Like Peter said, purple, but with a bunch of other colors."

"That's very good. It usually takes a few days for someone to find it."

"So what do we do now,?" Peter asked.

"Now, you learn to focus it.

"How?"

"Concentrate on, say, that rock over there. Send your magic – the light – out towards it. If you need help, I can give you a power boost."

"Okay."

"What should I focus on?" Lucy asked.

"Um, what about that frozen stream over there?"

"Alright."

I turned toward Peter to see his hands glowing a dark blue, the same color as his eyes. The rock I had had him focus on was steadily turning to dirt.

"Peter!"

His eyes flew open, and his hands stopped glowing. Suddenly, he was panting. "What happened? Why am I so tired?"

"You just turned that rock into dirt. That was amazing!"

"I did?"

"Yeah!" He was grinning now. I understood how he felt. The first time I'd done magic, I'd been exhilarated but really tired at the same time.

"Lucy, the stream's melted now." Her eyes lit up.

"Is that all there is to it?," Peter asked.

"Yes, but only if you're going to use it on its most basic level."

"What about what you said about the words last night?"

"You ask a _lot_ of questions."

Lucy giggled. Peter shook his head and looked at me. "Got at problem with an inquisitive mind, Alex? Did I hurt your ego because I'm too ignorant of a student to know everything? Not good enough for you?" I knew he didn't mean it; his eyes were laughing.

"Oh, are you going to use big word on me now? Who do you think you are. You conceited, unintelligent, overeducated, anemone?"

"Oh, now we're going with insults, are we? And more big words? Is that all you can think of? Huh, Lioness?"

"No," I retaliated, "You just don't seem to realize who you're talking to." Lucy had gone quiet, watching us, wondering what was going to happen next.

"Then, do enlighten me."

"Alright then. You asked for it." As I said this, I grabbed one of his legs and flipped him onto his back. Or, at least, that was what I meant to do. What really happened was I grabbed his leg, but he managed to trip me as he fell, but I regained my balance in time to see him rolling around on the ground, snow getting on his clothes and in his hair, laughing. "Why are you laughing?", I asked at the same time that Susan asked "What are you doing?"

Peter couldn't answer, he just kept laughing. Suddenly, I saw what was funny. After he'd fallen and tripped me, my foot had sunk into a pile of rabbit poop while I was regaining my balance. "Oh, that is absolutely _disgusting_. And those are my good boots too."

Peter roared with laughter. "You should have seen your face when you realized what you'd stepped in! Oh man, that was hilarious."

"Not the most dignified of kings, are you?"

"What the heck is dignity? I'm a 16-year-old boy!"

"Can we get back to the magic lesson, so I can tell you the word for 'I'm going to pulverize that king?' I don't know if _you_ would like the experience, but _I_ would enjoy it immensely."

"Sure, why not?" He got up. "So, what_ do_ the words have to do with magic?"

"The words help refine and expand the things the magic will do. I can't just point to that rock and make it burst into flames without directing the magic to do it. To direct magic, you need words. For example, 'Avra' means fire in Ancient Narnian, which is the language of magic. So –" I looked at the rock. "- Avra!" The rock was on fire.

"Wow!," Lucy said. I shut off the flow of magic.

"But before you said the word and nothing happened," Peter said.

"That's because I wasn't focusing my magic. To use it, you have to find it, focus it, and then direct it. I'll teach you some of the basic words, and then we'll see how you do with them, but I don't want you burning out. If you use magic for too long, then you'll get either really tired or you'll die because you used power that you didn't have." I saw their eyes widen. "Don't worry. It rarely happens. For now, we'll start with the elements. Fire is Avra. Water is Tyra. Air is Silra. Earth is Etra. Got that?"

"Yep."

"Good. Come on. We're losing them."

We kept walking. I enjoyed talking with Peter and Lucy. My only worry was if I could live long enough to keep them safe.

**AN: Please review! Thanks to all who already have – you guys are awesome! 5 reviews and , as always, another chapter will be added. Thanks!**


	4. Santa Claus is Comin' to Town Uh, Narnia

**AN: PLEASE READ! Father Christmas is in this one! I couldn't wait to write this chapter. Also, there's some Narnian slang that I just sort of made up. I had fun with it, so if you don't like it, tell me. I need all the help I can get! Please review, as usual. Five reviews = another chapter. Equation applies to all chapters/updates! Again, review! Thanks! Also, "Neh" means no and "Eh" means yes. Another thing, "We hot?," is like when we say "We cool?" I just thought that since they were against the winter, they should have hot be what cool is to us, because that would be against the Witch and all. It's a bit confusing. Sorry. Ask if you need help. Also, they have lunch in this chapter, on the frozen lake. I've added a lot of extra stuff to the original story, but I think it helps fill in some of the gaps. I've also made Susan not very likable. That's just Alex's idea about her, because she doesn't really know Susan yet. Tell me if you like it, or if I should just get on with the story, and not add any extra scenes like this. Thanks again! By the way, why are you still reading _this_? Why do you care what _I_ have to say about it? I wanna know what _you_ have to say. Review! Read the story! Flame at will! Go dance the Hokey-Pokey with you cousin's best friend's brother's girlfriend's grandparents! And then tell me how that worked out for you. I've never done it.**

We were walking across the frozen lake, on our way to the, well, the frozen river. Real original names, I know, but they'd been iced over for so long that everybody just called them frozen and then forgot their real names.

Peter, Lucy, and I kept talking. I taught them more words, like the word for making light without fire, (Avrelil), and for making an enemy blind temporarily (Feramior). I showed Peter some basic moves with the sword, and then had him try them while using mine. I discovered that he was a natural, even with a sword that wasn't balanced right for him. He was quickly growing more and more kingly in my eyes: strong-minded, magical, a natural swordsman. At lunch, I had tested him on battle strategies, giving him scenarios and drawing diagrams in the steadily melting snow, then having him study them and tell me where the armies should go next before the snow melted from the heat of the blue and green fires that we held in our hands. He was good at that too. I took it a step further and asked him which army was going to win. He guessed the right one about 75% of the time.

I asked him if he played chess, and he said he did but that he wasn't any good at it. His brother always won. I asked him whether he thought that what we just did would count as a chess game. He said it probably did.

"I wasn't any good at it in Finchley. I don't know. It's almost easier if I think of them as battles."

"Well, then. I have an order for you. The next time you play chess with your brother, think of the board as a battlefield, and of the pieces as foot-soldiers, swords-men, archers, and commanders. One of the commanders is the one who does all the fighting, but you can't lose him. The other commander tells the others what to do; without him, your army is dead. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does. It makes a lot more sense."

"Good."

Peter was in the middle of trying to figure who would win one of my trickier battle situations, when Beaver came over.

"How's he doing?," he asked.

"Excellent. He's a natural swordsman, he's great at battle strategies, he's a budding sorcerer, and even_ I_ can't get into his mind. He'll make a great High King.," I whispered into his ear.

I felt Peter probing, probably accidentally, and let him in my head. He looked up at me, his eyes wide at so high a praise, coming from _me_, of all people. I looked at him. "What? It's true."

"Thanks, Alex."

"Welcome."

"Food!," Mrs. Beaver called from where she was sitting next to the blue-purple-green fire that was the combined efforts of Peter's, Lucy's, and my magic.

We hurried over, Lucy, who had been watching us, Peter, and I following Mr. Beaver. We ate quickly, all except the oldest girl. Who looked at us with disgust when I told Peter about my days of being a double agent. He loved to hear the stories of battles and of great armies at war. In the end, I told him the history of Narnia, or rather, the exciting parts.

"Why are you called The Lioness, Alex?," Peter asked. It was a pretty reasonable question.

"I don't really know. I guess it's because I don't have a family – "

"Why's that?," Lucy asked. "Sorry for interrupting, and all."

"It's okay. Um, well, my Mum died when I was about two, and my Dad wasn't the best of dad's." I gave Peter a meaningful look. He understood. "So, when I got here, I was sort of adopted by the Narnians and by Aslan. So one of my titles is Daughter of Aslan. My sister's knight name is Lion'schild. I'm just The Lioness. I got dibs because I was the oldest. Becca – my sister - is two years younger than I am. And I'm a girl. And, usually, lion's produce other lions, so they nick-named me The Lioness before I was made a knight, and so when I did become one, my knight name was The Lioness. I guess it was Aslan's sense of humor showing itself."

"That's sweet."

"Yep."

"Can't you two be civilized for once?" the Susan asked.

"What civilized? I ain't never heard of no civilized before," I quipped. Susan shook her head and turned away like I was dirt.

"Sorry 'bout that," Peter said, lapsing into the Narnian slang I had taught him and Lucy. "She neh undastan'."

"'S okay. I survive wit out no civilized copany. You too, eh?"

"Neh," said Lucy, joining us.

"Fo real? 'Ow you do that?"

"Cafuly."

"Well, I ain't never been civilized. Don' wanna be."

"Eh," Peter replied.

"Beast. We hot?"

"We hot."

"Sweet."

We kept walking. And walking.

Around 1:00, by my watch, (which is the Sun) I heard bells. The Witch.

"Behind you!," I yelled. "Run!"

We ran like the devil himself was on our tails, which, come to think of it, was true.

Getting into the forest, we ran to the old Beaver hideaway, and ducked inside. I could feel Lucy trembling from where she sat. I understood. The threat of the Witch can be even scarier than the Witch herself.

The bells stopped right above us. I sat stock still holding my breath. There was a thump, and then a shadow appeared. A large shadow, and then it disappeared. We waited a moment with baited breath.

"Maybe she's gone," Lucy whispered.

"I suppose I'll go out and check," Peter said, and he started to get up.

"No, Peter!" I grabbed his arm. "Narnia needs you. I'll go. It's time she found out who I really am." I walked out of the alcove.

Looking out, I saw not the Witch, but. . . someone else. Someone who hadn't been in Narnia for a hundred years. Father Christmas.

I felt a silly grin spread over my face and I turned back towards the cave. Leaning down, I heard Lucy squeak as I said "Come out! I hope you've all been good, 'cause there's someone here to see you!"

The Beavers came out first, then Peter, holding onto Lucy's hand, and finally, Susan.

Lucy started grinning and walked forward. She said "Merry Christmas, sir."

Father Christmas smiled and said, "It certainly is, Lucy, since you have arrived."

I looked at Peter and Susan. Peter just looked shell-shocked. Susan, of course, was skeptical. "I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia.," she said.

Father Christmas said, "It hasn't been for a hundred years. But now the Witch's power is crumbling." He took the huge sack full of what I knew were presents, and dumped it on the ground. I heard Lucy gasp in surprise and delight, then saw her run forward, saying "Presents!" Father Christmas laughed and said, "Lucy, Eve's Daughter. These are for you. The juice of the fire flower. If you, or one of your friends are wounded, one drop of this cordial will restore them." He gave her a small bottle filled with red liquid. My eyes widened at the sight of so much juice. It was extraordinarily rare, and one of the most expensive and priceless gifts in the world. "And though I do not expect you to use it, this." A tiny dagger was now in Lucy's possession. "Sir, I think I could be brave enough," Lucy said tentatively.

"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs." Lucy looked at me for confirmation. I nodded my head. Battles are _very_ ugly affairs.

"Susan." She stepped forward. He handed her a bow and arrows. "Trust in this bow, and it will never miss."

"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?," she asked

Father Christmas ignored this comment. "And, though you don't seem to have trouble making yourself heard, this. When you put this horn to your lips and blow it, wherever you are, help will come."

Susan answered this with a typical, "Thanks." Father Christmas turned towards Peter. "And, Peter. These are tools, not toys. The time to use them may be soon at hand." Peter drew the ornately beautiful sword from its sheath and his eyes lit up. His shield had the Red Lion on the front. I knew in an instant that he would be begging me for lessons. Good. I didn't want him practicing with my sword for _forever_. It was time he got his own weapon. Peter looked at me, a huge smile on his face. I couldn't help grinning at his astonishment. "What'd I tell you? I knew you'd get a sword soon enough. They're not about to send you into battle empty-handed."

Father Christmas laughed his genial laugh and, turning, said, "Bear them well! I best be off, winter is almost over and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years." He climbed onto the sled. "Alexa?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep them safe."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Then I know they will definitely be safe."

"Thank you, sir."

Father Christmas got into his sleigh, and added, "And long live Aslan!"

"Long live Aslan!"

He rode off. Lucy turned to Susan. "Told you he was real."

I snickered and Peter grinned. Suddenly, his face fell so fast that I knew he'd realized something. Something bad. He turned to me. "Did you hear what he said... 'winter is almost over'. You know what that means...no more ice."

What he was saying hit me with the force of a stampeding minotaur, which, in case you're wondering, is a lot of force and hurts. A lot. We had to get to the river, _now_.

"Come on!," I yelled. We started running. We had to get there before all the ice was gone. There was no hope if that happened.

**AN: Thanks for reading! More action in next chapter! Please review! Thanks! I have to stop using exclamation points after every sentence! I think I need therapy for it!**


	5. Calm, Smooth Waters? I Don't Think So

**AN: Crazgirl123 is amazing! She asked five times, so, here I go again on my crazy Narnian detour! The River was my second favorite scene in the movie besides the battle. I know, I'm such a guy, even though I'm a girl. What does that make me? I don't know. Review! On with the story! FOR NARNIA! (I. Am. So. Freaking. Weird. Go me!)**

We reached the river. I knew in an instant that we had to move, now, or we wouldn't get across. Of course, we got stalled.

"Wait, maybe we should think about this." Susan, naturally.

"We don't have time!," Peter said. Good. That made, what, two of us?

"I was just trying to be realistic.," Susan defended herself. It made me shake _my _head in disgust.

"No, you're trying to be smart. As usual." I had to admire Peter's courage. Susan looked _angry_. Of course, not _me_ angry, because nobody can ever be _me_ angry, but still really, really mad.

We started going down the slippery trail that lead onto the ice. I handed Lucy down to Peter, and then got down on my knees and placed my hand on the ice.

"What are you doing?," Lucy asked.

"Strengthening it. Go!" Seeing Peter's worried look, I added "I'll be fine. Now, go!"

Concentrating, I muttered "Sityrla", or 'ice' in Ancient Narnian. My hands glowed green, but Aslan's spring magic was fighting any resistance and quickly sapping my strength. Peter took a step forward, but the ice cracked. He backed up a bit, looking scared.

"Wait, maybe I should go first.," Mr. Beaver suggested.

"Maybe you should.," Peter agreed.

Beaver started walking across the ice. It cracked underneath his weight.

"You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?," Mrs. Beaver called.

"Well, you never know which meal's gonna be your last. Especially with your cooking."

Peter looked back at me. I nodded encouragingly, wishing he would just get on with it. He started across the ice, holding Lucy's hand. I felt exhaustion wash over me, but held on to consciousness with everything I had. I could not, would not pass out and leave them to die. I didn't care if I died, but they could not. Not while I was alive.

Which might not be for very much longer. I threw my remaining strength into the ice. My vision was going fuzzy. Muted, incoherent dialog floated toward me. Time and space were melting together. I watched, unable to do anything but keep the ice from cracking while Peter had to face off with Maugrim. It was not a fair match. Peter, with barely any sword training and the Beavers and his sisters to protect against Maugrim, Captain of the Witch's Secret Police. This would not end well unless something happened quickly.

Me, being who I am, had planned it all out with Peter during the walk, should something like this happen on the ice. I couldn't hold the pain back much longer, so I let it out. I screamed, partly from pain, partly to get them to notice me. It worked, getting Peter and Maugrim's attention. I relinquished my hold on the ice, threw myself towards Peter, and yelled "NOW!"

He slammed his sword into the ice, calling to his sisters "Hold onto me!" I hoped it would work. The last thing I felt before everything went black was a hand grabbing my collar and pulling me onto a slab of ice.

**AN: Sorry it's so short. Thank you to all those who have reviewed, and to those who haven't, please do! It helps, a lot! 5 reviews get you another chapter. Usual deal. Thanks again!**


	6. Lioness Hunting Season Now Open!

**AN: Hi, guys! I'm back! No super long Author's Notes this time (I hope.) I can't wait to write the next chapter, but I'm kind of bogged down. You know that scene in the movie, where the fox gets turned into stone? Well, since I basically got rid of the fox, I figured I would put Alex in the same situation only have her live. You know, put some more action in there. The whole abuse thing? It hasn't actually happened to me. I just thought it would help the story along. No, my dad doesn't hurt me. My Dad is totally awesome. I mean, he's pretty beast. If he's reading this, he wouldn't know what I just called him, but then again, who cares? I do not own Narnia or any of the characters even though I wish I did because that would be _amazing_. Tell me what you think! It helps A LOT! 5 reviews equal another chapter (If I ever get it written.) Thank you! And, again . . . wait for it . . . REVIEW! Oh, yeah, about the "No more super-long Author's Notes" thing at the beginning? Scratch that! I think I need more therapy, for those of you who have read my previous Author Notes, you should get the joke. Thanks for tolerating me!**

I woke up to see Peter's worried face above me. I groaned. "Wha-? Wha' happened? Oh, I think I'm gonna be sick." I sat up and looked around. "Where are we? What are you all standing around for? We have to get to Aslan's Camp!" I started to get up, but couldn't. I slumped over, disoriented. I silently cursed my incompetence. Why couldn't I just get up like nothing had happened? I felt . . . drained. Oh, duh. That might be because I _was_ drained. Geez, I was out of it. I tried to get up again, but failed. Miserably. I don't _do_ miserably. In fact, I _hate _miserably. Peter simply bent down, and picked me up. I protested, but he shook his head.

"Don't. I'm not the one who was – what actually happened? It's like you were drained or something."

"I _was_ drained, like you said. Remember when I told you that if you used too much magic for a long time then you got drained? That's what happened."

"But it wasn't for a long time!"

'Aslan's spring magic was working, so I couldn't fight it, which I guess was a good thing. Except, maybe not so much in that particular circumstance. It drained me much faster than I usually get drained; I had to fight it _and_ the river. The plan did work, right?"

"Yeah. Back to what I was saying. I'm not the one who was drained. You feinted!"

"We war heroines prefer the term 'passed out'."

"Well, excuse me for not knowing the vocabulary."

"You're excused."

"Shut up and let me carry you."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

We started to walk. After a while, Peter looked down at me and said, "How are you so heavy? You can't weigh more than a hundred pounds!"

"It's all my weapons. Sword, daggers, long knives, short knives, silver-tipped arrows, throwing stars, crossbow, my horn, my pack, and various other things. That and I'm wearing silver-plated armor underneath my clothes."

"What's with all the silver?"

"I'm not worthy of wearing gold. Only the current kings and queens can have gold weapons. It's the reason the hilt of your sword is gold. I have second rating, because I'm your Protector, unless you appoint someone else. I would die for any of you. It's my job."

"You would?"

"Yeah, I would. Don't question me."

"What happened to you having second rating?"

"Turning my own words against me, huh? Oh, boy, you'll make a great politician."

_"Thanks."_

"You're welcome."

We worked our way through the underbrush. All around us, spring was coming, and coming quickly. Finally, I was able to walk without disgracing myself again, and Peter let me down. I wasn't quite myself though, so when six wolves burst out of a group of trees, I wasn't ready for it.

Before any of us knew what was happening, I was being dragged along by my arms. If I tried to struggle, the wolves just bit me harder. It got so bad that I actually cried out. I heard the sound of the others starting to run after me, but yelled out "No! Get to Aslan's Camp! There's no hope for me or Narnia if you don't get there! Go!" Luckily, they followed my orders. Peter glanced behind multiple times as he ran a scared, horrified look on his face. "Go!" I yelled. "Don't worry about me, just go!"

The wolves ran on, with me being dragged along; giving them a barrage of insults, profanity, and anything else I could think of. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only about ten minutes, we stopped. I say "we" for want of a better word. I don't enjoy being included with the wolves.

I looked up, and there was the Witch. I felt my face contort into a snarl, and threw myself at her, hands outstretched to strangle her. I was half-mad with fury, and the other half was just insane_. _Of course, I was brought down immediately by the wolves, and they bit me and sank their teeth into the same spot over and over again until I cried out, and tears leaked out of my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to fight them. It felt like I was back home, with my dad hitting me because I wouldn't let him get to Becca. Or when he set me on fire, when I was eight years old, and I just lay there writhing in pain while he laughed.

The Witch looked down at me and smiled. "So, it seems as though our little Lioness has been captured. That_ is _what they call you, right? The Lioness? It doesn't fit, considering how you're lying there, crying."

I glared up at her. "I am _not_ your Lioness. I am Aslan's Lioness. I am High King Peter's Lioness. But I am not, and never will be, and never have been, _your_ Lioness. That and I cry with pride."

I saw someone step out from behind the Witch, and realized suddenly that this was King Edmund. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," I said to him.

"Flattery will not help you now," the Witch said.

I smirked at her. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, well, come to think of it, I do mean to be rude, but I wasn't actually talking to _you_." I looked pointedly at Edmund.

"Then you will die, traitor!" The Witch tended to be a tad bit melodramatic sometimes.

"Oh, I'm so scared. _Not. _The only thing terrifying about you is your face." The wolf holding my arm bit down, hard. "You know, it gets a little annoying when I'm I the middle of making her look stupid and you bite me. Oh, wait, I forgot. She makes herself look stupid naturally." Edmund's mouth was slightly open by now. I have that effect on some people.

I did what I usually do at times like these. I whistled, turned, kicked the wolves off me, and the leaped onto the horse that came stampeding out of the bushes. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Edmund watching me. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty! I'll come back to save you, but I need reinforcements! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Galloping off, I kept looking over my shoulder, ducking when my horse, Shadowhunter, told me to, leaning when he told me to, but always, always, looking back at the lone King, terrified and with no place to go. And I was leaving him. Peter's brother. I was leaving him. _Geez, I suck at being a Protector. I'm sorry, Edmund. I'm so, so, sorry. I save you. Just wait. Oh, man. Peter's brother. _Peter's_ brother. Dang it, you coward. You should've fought back! You're the freaking Lioness! _A small, treacherous part of my brain whispered decided it needed to get its two bits in. _You know you couldn't have won._ _Just because you're in lo_- I would _not_ finish that thought. It was too dangerous to think it. _Shut up_, I told it. The evil part of my brain withdrew from my inner conversation. _I'm sorry Edmund. I'm so, so sorry_.

**AN: What do you think? TELL ME! I actually want to know! Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, and possibly for the story, REVIEW! I cannot stress it enough apparently. I know I sound a little desperate, but that would be because I am. Please appease my weirdness and review! Thank you. This message is sponsored by Lioness and Co. Any objectionable information/content that is in this post may be taken out if some of you REVIEW! Big shocker, right? I know. THANK YOU Princess of Narnia 1192! You are awesome! **


	7. Family Life Sucks

**AN: Hey. Super-crazy/scary revelation about Alex coming up in this chapter! I AM NOT ABUSED! This is just the product of my scary imagination. Review!**

Looking over my shoulder, I watched Edmund's form, gradually get smaller and smaller, and then disappear behind some trees. I returned my attention to Shadowhunter. "So, where are we going, Alex?" he asked me.

"Back to the King and the Queens and the Beavers. You've been following us the whole time, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah. But it was justifiable. I've known you for a long time, and I know by now that I should never let you out of my sight, or else you'll get yourself killed."

"Me? Never."

We rounded a corner, and there they were, walking hurriedly, Peter and Lucy casting scared glances behind them. Peter had his sword drawn, holding it loosely, as he'd seen me do when we had been running from the Witch. He turned toward us suddenly. He must have heard us coming. We could be quiet when we wanted to, so we were pretty close to them when he heard us. His sword was up in an instant and then he relaxed when he saw it was me. "What took you so long?" he asked.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Had a run-in with the Witch, got bitten by wolves, said hi to your brother – he's alive, by the way – and then escaped. Happens about once a week with us doesn't it Shadowhunter?"

"Yeah."

"You . . . talk?" Susan asked.

"You've spent two days with a pair of talking Beavers, and you're surprised when a horse talks?"

"I'm just not used to it," she answered coldly.

"Well, then. I suppose you wouldn't be, would you?" I grinned. "Oh, yeah. Introductions. Pevensies, Shadowhunter. Shadowhunter, Pevensies. The oldest is Peter, second oldest is Susan, third oldest is Edmund, who you have yet to meet and rescue, and the fourth oldest, or the youngest, is Lucy. And you've already met the Beavers."

"It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesties," Shadowhunter said formally.

"As it is to meet you, Shadowhunter," Peter added, and then looked at me for approval. I shrugged and then winked. He grinned. "well, I suppose we should get going, don't you?" he said.

"Yes, we should. And since Lucy over here looks like she could use a break from walking, she gets to ride on the 'pretty pony'." I hoisted her up onto Shadowhunter's back. He snorted and looked down at me with contempt.

"'Pretty pony?'"

"Oh, you know me. Be careful with her."

"I'm always careful when it comes to ladies."

"Oh. So you don't consider me a lady and you want to get your skinny equestrian butt kicked, don't you? I would gladly do the favor for you." Peter snickered. "What are _you_ laughing at?"

"Nothing."

"Smart answer." We kept walking. All around us, spring was coming. I realized that I'd nearly forgotten what grass looked like. And there were actual _flowers_, too! It's amazing what you can see when it isn't winter all the time.

Peter looked at me, a question in his eyes. "What?" I asked.

"I was just thinking. You don't seem to be the person who just _happens_ to have a talking horse ready to come galloping in to save the day. You must have had it planned out. Why didn't you tell us? In fact, why didn't you tell us that you were a spy for Aslan when we first met you? You talked with the wolf as though he was your best friend! Why don't you have a family here, like a mom and a dad? Why should we trust you? Why should _I_ trust you?" He had lowered his voice to a whisper so that he wouldn't worry his sisters.

"I'm sorry, but these are not the sort of questions you should be asking a person with my past."

"I wouldn't know that. I hardly know anything about you. I only met you yesterday. Tell me _why_, Alex." I looked into his dark blue eyes, arguing with myself in my head. I couldn't tell him, but he'd managed to ask me in such a way that if I didn't tell him, he'd be able to question why he should trust me. By the _Lion_, he would make a good politician. I bit my lip. He watched me, and my indecision, and then said "If you're scared to tell me, you don't have to." _Dang_, how did he _do_ that? How did he know that he could trick me into telling him because I hate being thought of as weak? I ground my teeth together, hating my pride, and my fear of soul-bearing moments such as these, because they usually end with mushy emotions. I_ hate_ mushy emotions. I don't _do_ crying, and feelings that aren't happiness, physical pain, adrenalin, and anger. I can deal with those four. The others? Not so much. Finally, I decided.

"Okay. I'll tell you. When I was eight, my father killed my mother in front of me. I shielded my little sister, Becca, who's two years younger than me. She didn't see it; she just knows that it happened. About a week after that, my dad started abusing us. He lit me on fire once. I had to hide Becca. I learned how to steal, and how to lie. I perfected deceit. I could tell your little sister that I killed you but it wasn't my fault, and she'd believe me, even if you were standing right next to me, in plain sight. I don't really know how Becca and I got into Narnia, but it was during one of our many escape attempts. We fell asleep in an alleyway, and the next thing we knew, we'd woken up in Narnia. We were found by the Beavers and sort of adopted. Then, one day, when I was out hunting - not talking animals, mind you, never talking animals, that's like eating a baby – the Witch found me. She wanted to recruit me, so I let her. You don't say no to the Witch, not to her face anyway. But really, I passed on information to the Beavers. It went on for about a year, and then you lot showed up, and that's basically what happened." My history didn't bother me. It had become a fact in my messed up, freaky life. I had told my story with a calm level voice, and turned my head to see his reaction. Peter looked scared, not of me, but of what had happened to me.

"You – you're not joking, are you? Because that would make me feel a lot better if you were."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" I asked softly, looking into his eyes.

"No, you don't. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Then you need to learn to think before you say anything. I have the same problem. I'll fire off some snappy comeback without thinking, and the next thing I know, I'm getting beat up."

"You? Beat up? I doubt it."

"You'd be surprised. Well, now that you know my history, I guess there isn't much left to talk about."

"I guess so."

We kept walking in an odd silence. Peter's silence was awkward, a little scared, but I could tell that he was thinking very hard. Mine was just quiet. I checked the Sun; it was 3:00. In seven hours, I'd met Father Christmas, run from the Witch multiple times, been drained of magic, been kidnapped by some sadistic wolves, escaped from the Witch, and somehow managed to keep Peter, Susan, and Lucy safe. All in a day's work. Sheesh.

**AN: Again review! 5 reviews = another chapter!**


	8. Confessing and crying, Great Combo

**AN: Hey guys! Cool, crazy stuff in this chapter. You get to meet Becca as well. Tell me if you like her! The idea for the Gift is from Graceling, which is an awsome book! It wasn't my idea! Reivew! Thanks.**

We walked into Aslan's Camp. The picturesque landscape was as green and full as before. The red and gold tents, with their flags emblazoned with the Golden Lion, were the same. It looked just like when I'd left it, except there were a lot more people staring at us. Also, there were several more tents than before. Lucy was gazing around in delight. Susan and Peter just looked amazed. While we passed them, people started following us. "Why are they all staring at us?" Susan asked.

"Maybe they think you look funny," Lucy replied, making Peter and I grin.

"Alex! You're back!" I turned to see Becca running towards me, her reddish-brown hair whipping around her face in the breeze, her green eyes alert and alive, as usual.

"What's been happening around here, Becca? There are a lot more people than I remember."

"Everyone's been out 24/7 recruiting. We got fifty more yesterday." She looked over at the Pevensies. "Are they the Four? Why are there only three of them?"

"Their little brother, Edmund, got kidnapped by the Witch. Actually, he betrayed them."

"Crap."

"Yep. That about sums it up. C'mon. I want you to meet them." We walked over to them. "Hey guys. This is my little sister, Becca. Becca, this is Peter, Susan, and Lucy."

"Hi," Becca said. She looked at me. "Boy, you're filthy. And wounded. Geez, Alex. You leave for a day, and when you come back, you're hurt." Her eyes widened. "And drained!"

Peter snickered. "_I've_ never had to be looked after by _my_ little sisters."

"Oh, you just shut it." I turned around, shaking my head, and saw Delah, the Healer, coming out of the white tent that was the infirmary. Delah is a water nymph, and is about as sweet as you can get, but don't cross her. Trust me on that. She looks like a kindly old woman, and can't be more than four feet tall. She took one look at me, and stalked over.

She curtsied to the Peter, who bowed back, and Susan and Lucy, who followed her example, by curtsying. Then she turned to me. "Alex, how many times do I have to tell you, don't drain yourself when you're wounded? How many times?" Her gaze could kill a fully-grown male Minotaur. "Well?"

"A 'hello' would've been nice."

"You are wounded. And drained. I'm not about to waste my time with small talk. Now, what happened?"

"I was wounded after I was drained, Delah," I said meekly. My sorry excuse didn't even faze her.

"I don't care. Come on." I looked at the Pevensies. Peter was trying very hard not to laugh. I knew what it must look like. Me, with my tough-girl looks and all my weapons, being cowed by a tiny, old woman.

"Delah –" I started.

"No! Come on! What is the number one rule for every warrior? Answer me!"

"Don't argue with a healer." I was nearly cowering. I heard Peter choke, while trying to hold his laughter back. I shot Becca a look. _Help me! _She shook her head, grinning. As I was lead off, I heard Peter laughing. He was going to die on the training courts. I would make sure of that.

In the infirmary, Delah sat me down on a bed, rolled up my sleeve, and proceeded to interrogate me about the Four. "What are they like? Actually, what is the oldest boy like?"

"Well, he's about as sarcastic as I am. He's funny, cheerful, very protective of his family, cares about other people's feelings, doesn't like to see me hurt, a natural swordsman, brave, magical, infuriating in a way that makes me want to laugh when I really should punch him, and all-together, not bad."

"He's magical?"

"Yep. So is the youngest girl. I don't know about the older one. I don't think she likes me very much, and I think my eyes scare her a bit. The others look me in the eyes like there's nothing wrong with them."

"Honey, that's because there's nothing wrong with your eyes. One green-blue and the other hazel. They're much prettier than mine. You're Gifted. Do they know that?"

"No. And I don't want to tell them. They'd despise me like the others. They probably don't even know what being Gifted means."

Her kind eyes, one brown the other black, looked at me with concern. "They won't despise you, dear. Trust me on that. And you aren't supposed to argue with a healer." I couldn't help smiling. "If I'm not mistaken, your King is coming."

"He's not my King, Delah."

"You don't know that. There. Your arm's done, and I put some magic on the bandages so you'll heal even faster than you usually do."

"Thanks Delah."

"You're always welcome, my dear."

Peter ducked into the curtained off room. "Hello, My Lady," he said to Delah.

"Your Majesty. And, please. Call me Delah," Delah answered, with a curtsy. Peter nodded.

"Then call me Peter."

"Well then, Peter. I'll leave you two alone. Oh, and Alex? Think about what I said. It helps to come clean. Then you know who your real friends are." She slipped out.

"What was that about?" Peter asked.

"She wanted me to tell you that I haven't been completely honest with you." I had to get this over with quickly, or else someone else would tell him.

He came over and sat on the bed next to me. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm Gifted."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Gifted?"

I nodded. "Ever since I came to Narnia, my eyes have been blue-green and hazel. It's the sign of the Gifted. It means we're much better at something than others are. There are several fauns and centaurs that are Gifted with sword fighting. When I first came here, they thought I was a dancer, because I was flexible and strong. They thought that until my first day of training. I was doing hand-to–hand combat with a faun, and I-" I couldn't go on. My shoulders were shaking, and I felt tears coming to my eyes. Peter slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against him. I buried my face in his shirt and went on. "I – I –I killed him. I hit him in the face, really fast, and then he - he didn't get back up. Oh, Peter!" I collapsed into his shoulder, sobbing. He pulled me onto his lap and just held me, whispering comforting words in my ear, telling me it was okay. I looked up at him; my eyesight blurred with tears, and I whispered, "I have the killing Gift. It's the reason I'm so good at fighting. It's not me, it's my Gift. I don't want it. Only Oreius would train with me. Delah is like a grandmother, Aslan is like a Father, and Becca's my sister by blood. I didn't have any friends until you came along. I didn't want to tell you, because I thought you wouldn't want to be around me. It's fine to go to Delah if you're injured, because she's Gifted with healing. But a girl with the killing Gift? Everyone's scared of me. They won't look me in the eyes."

"It's okay. I don't care, not one bit. In fact, I'm amazed no one's wanted to train with you," Peter said.

"Why?" I looked up through my tears, surprised.

"Because you could teach them so much. _I_ want you to train me. It would help be able to protect my family, and we might just win this war."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Now are you done crying, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I think I need a few more minutes, Peter. It was really hard telling you that."

"I'll bet it was, my Lioness. My brave, brave Lioness." He pulled me closer, and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, wishing that it would never end, that I would never have to pull away from him and make my way back out into that world, the world of too much pain and too little hope.

We sat like that for a long while, and then went out together, holding hands.

**AN: Five reviews = another chapter. Did you understnd the Gift part? If you don't, tell me. I'll try to answer any questions. Thanks!  
**


	9. Lioness and Wolfsbane

**AN: Bit of romance in this chapter! (Mostly holding hands.) Maugrim dies. (Yay!) Review! I want feed-back! I fon't even care if it's a flame,either.**

A lot of the nymphs turned to watch us. They probably thought I was stealing Peter away from them. Yeah, right. The last thing on my mind was having a boyfriend. In fact, it wasn't on my mind at all. They kept giving me hostile looks, but I met their eyes with mine and they looked away. Of course, we got razzed a lot. Lucy danced around me singing "Peter and Alex, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-MMPH!" I shoved my hand over her mouth, and grinned at Peter, who shook his head.

Becca took advantage of the situation. "Admit it! You two were making out! And you can't shut me up, Peter! I've got knives!"

"We weren't!" both of us said at the same time.

"Then why were you holding hands? And I've seen the looks you give her, Peter, don't deny it. I bet Alex thinks you're handsome." Susan _had_ to join in. Peter and I blushed. "See? I knew it!"

We looked at each other, "If I kill you, will you kill me?" he asked. I nodded. "Good." We turned and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Becca called.

"To commit suicide so we won't have to deal with you lot teasing us for the rest of our lives," I called over my shoulder.

That brought Becca and Lucy running to us. "You are _not_ going to kill yourself, Alex," Becca said, looking so ferocious that I thought she might hurt me.

"Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Sis."

"Good."

"C'mon, you guys. We need to get you some decent Narnian clothes. And I need a shower, because, as Becca said, I'm filthy," I added.

The nymphs showed them to their tents, an extra couple for Peter, which, for some reason, made me angry. Why should I care if they flirted with him? Geez, it was confusing. After our last time alone with each other, I couldn't help thinking that maybe I did feel something extra for Peter, and then I dismissed that thought from my mind. It was foolish. We couldn't be together. I walked into my tent. It was much cleaner than it had been when I'd left it. I'm not the tidiest person in the world and I _don't _do house-keeping. Clean clothes had been laid out on the bed, and there was warm water ready for a bath. Delah was also there, holding bandages for my arm. "You didn't have to do this, Delah," I said. She smiled at me.

"Yes, I did. Call when you need me for the bandages, dear. Now, wash up." I smiled, and did as she had told me to.

When she pulled the bandages off my arm, it was almost healed. "Wow. How did you do this?" I asked.

"I always put a bit more magic in your bandages, dear. You've gone through a lot more than any other teenager should have to. I've heard you've fallen for the Pevensie boy."

"What? No. We're just friends."

"Friends who hold hands?"

"I told him. He comforted me. He's a guy. I'm a girl. Is it so wrong to hold hands?"

"No, but I see the way those nymphs watch him, and I also see the way they watch you. They think you're competition."

"Well, they can think again. We're not together."

"Get dressed, dear. I expect he'll be waiting." She smiled conspiratorially, and laughed when I shook my head at her. She left me in the tent.

I turned to my clothes. They're specially made for me. Two sides, reversible fabric, so I could change my appearance, if need be. The shirt I was wearing was a light blue on one side and white on the other. My pants could be either black or brown. My belt was black, as were my boots. I put the shirt on with the blue side facing out. My pants were black side out. I pulled on my boots and my belt. My boots had been scrubbed clean, thankfully. I couldn't wait to get Peter back for the rabbit poop. My silver hilted sword, daggers, and knives went into their sheaths. My bow and quiver full of black and silver arrows were at my back. I looked into the mirror. My long black hair, which was my only vanity, was a tangled mess. I combed it until it fell in waves down my back, and then tight braided it and the leather spiked strap from the crown of my head. Anyone who seized my braid would regret it. I was now ready for anything they threw at me.

Stepping out of my tent, I saw Peter emerging from his, wearing a grey shirt, a brown leather tunic, brown pants, and boots. His sword was at his side. Susan and Lucy came out, Lucy in a blue dress, Susan in a green one. I walked over to them. Peter's eyes widened when he saw me. I smirked at him. "Didn't think I could clean up this nice, did you, Pevensie?"

"Honestly? No, I didn't," he answered. I looked him up and down. He was in training clothes. He looked pretty good in them, to tell the truth, not that I cared what he looked like. The girls headed toward the river. "Where's Becca?" he asked.

"Probably training," I answered. He nodded. I looked up at Paravel Hill. Aslan was there. We started walking towards him. Peter's hand found mine. I looked up and found him smiling at me. We reached the top of the Hill. Peter went and stood beside Aslan, with me next to him. I watched the beautiful view: the blue, shining waves, cresting the golden shores of the Eastern Sea. Cair Paravel, that fantastical castle, sand-colored stone, reflecting the sunlight. Green hills lay behind, stretching out to the horizon Snow-capped mountains lay in the distance.

Without looking at Peter, Aslan said, "That is Cair Paravel, of the Four Thrones, on one of which you will sit, Peter, as High King." Peter was silent, looking out at the castle. "You doubt the prophesy," Aslan said matter-of-factly.

Peter looked at him. "No, that's just it . . . I'm not who you think I am."

Aslan looked up at him. "Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley. Beaver also mentioned that you made Alex step in some rabbit . . . remains." Peter grinned. I elbowed him.

"Ow! What was that for, Alex?"

"What do you think, Peter?" I replied.

He shook his head.

Aslan continued. "Peter, there is a Deep Magic that rules over Narnia. It defines right from wrong and helps us fulfill our destinies, yours, mine, and Alex's."

"I don't think I'll be able to," Peter said.

"You were able to get your family here," Aslan said.

"Not all of them," Peter said softly, looking down. I squeezed his hand, and he looked at me, and smiled gratefully.

Aslan looked at him, sympathy in his eyes. "I will do what I can for Edmund. I too want my family safe." At that moment, we heard a horn being blown. Peter and I looked at Aslan, then at each other.

"Susan!" we said at the same time, then turned and ran toward the river, with Aslan following close behind.

When we got to the river, we saw Susan and Lucy in a tree. Susan couldn't get her foot up all the way and the Wolves were snapping at her leg. Peter and I charged across the river, drawing our swords. When we got to the other side, Peter pointed his sword at one of the Wolves, who I recognized as Maugrim. I hung back, there if he needed me. Aslan came up, and trapped the second Wolf with his paw. Oreius and part of the army ran to us, Oreius brandished his sword, ready to kill Maugrim, but Aslan said "Stay back! This is Peter's battle." In a split-second, faster than I could blink, Maugrim leaped at Peter. Peter pulled his sword up, crying out. He fell to the ground, with the Wolf on top of him. They lay still. The girls jumped down from the tree. I ran over and shoved the Fell Beast off him. Peter looked up at me, his blue eyes wide. His sisters ran to hug him. He looked terrified. I walked over to Maugrim, and prodded him with my sword. He didn't move. I prodded him again. Still no sign of life. I looked up at Aslan and nodded. Maugrim was dead. Aslan let the other Wolf go, saying "Follow him. He will lead you to Edmund." The warriors sped off, leaving Peter, Susan, Lucy, Aslan, and I alone.

Aslan turned to Peter. "Peter, clean your sword." He did so, on the grass. "Kneel." Again, Peter complied. The girls looked confused, but I knew what was going on. Peter was being knighted. I kept a serious expression on my face, but was grinning and clapping for him in my head. "Rise, Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia." Peter rose, a look of wonder on his face. The girls were smiling hugely, and I beamed. He turned toward us, his eyes alive.

I walked up to him. "Wolfsbane, huh? Not bad, Pevensie." He grinned and shook his head at me. I smirked at him. "You do know that this means I get to pummel you and claim I'm training you, right? I still haven't forgiven you for the rabbit poop."

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	10. For The Love Of Pete, Literally

**AN: I put an actual _kiss_ in this chapter! HELP ME! I am no longer a tom-boy! For this chapter, anyway. Whayever. Review! Please ! Thanks! I can't belive hwo quickly I got responses. In one day! I posted on Sunday, and then on Moday I had five reiviews! I would've posted then, but I forgot my flash drive. :(**

I woke to Delah, clean clothes – the same as yesterday, only with a green shirt and brown pants, brown boots, a brown belt – and a warm bath. After getting ready, I walked outside, and then up Paravel Hill to look at the sunrise, and hopefully get a jump on the day.

When I reached the crest of the hill, however, someone was already there. Peter twisted around from where he was sitting, and stood up. He walked toward me, and offered a plate of toast and sausage. I took some and we went back to where he had been earlier. I watched him sit down, and noticed him being conscious of where his sword was, where the rocks were, and where I was. We shared the plate of food. The pink, purple, gold, red, and blue sky kept us occupied for a while, as did the food. Peter set it aside, on the grass when we'd finished. "The sunrise here is prettier than it was in England," he said softly. He wasn't watching the sunrise, though. He was watching me.

I looked over at him. "I didn't think you would be the type to watch sunrises."

"I didn't think you were the type as well," he answered, still watching me. He reached out, as though unconscious of what he was doing, and put his fingers under my chin, lifting it. His other arm slid gently around my shoulders, and pulled me closer. My heart sped up, and he took his fingers from my chin, and put that arm around me, his hand resting on my back. He pulled at me again. I was up against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. He tilted his head down, and pressed his mouth against mine, his eyes closing. My arms were around his neck in a second, and I tangled one of my hands in his hair. It was long and sweet, and completely alien but amazing at the same time. We stopped kissing when we realized that air was essential for survival. I stared into his eyes and he stared into mine, just sitting there, in each other's arms.

We heard nymphs coming up the Hill, and hastily separated.

Lionel, a water nymph, and one of the ring-leaders of my tormenters, walked up. "Alex," she said sweetly. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course," I said, standing up. Peter looked up at me, knowing my tone of voice, the kind I use with people who don't like me. He slid into my mind, asking permission first and said _Don't let them get to you Alex. Come back when you're done. I'll be here, waiting. I gave the tiniest of nods, turned, and followed the nymphs._

As soon as we couldn't be seen or heard by anyone in the camp, Lionel rounded on me. Still keeping up her nice-girl act she asked, her words coated with poisonous honey, "What were you doing up there with him, Alex?"

"Just talking." It was more or less true.

"Sure you were. We saw you. Magicing him so he'd kiss you, and then making it look like it was him who started it. It's your eyes. You hypnotized him! You don't just kill innocent bystanders, _Lioness. _You draw them in. You're no better than the Witch! It's no wonder no one will train with you. No one wants to be near a witch, so we'll do everyone a favor and get rid of you. He's not yours. He's mine."

I couldn't help it. "If he's yours, then why does he hold hands and flirt with _me?"_

"You magiced him into falling in love with you."

"Well, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

She pushed me, and then it was like they were playing Alex ping pong.

I yelled in my mind _Peter! _hoping he'd hear me, hoping he'd come. I couldn't fight them. I'd lose control. I'd kill one of them, and they knew it. I wasn't allowed to fight anyone unless I was in mortal danger or I was training.

I heard a call behind me; Peter. Oh, thank you. Thank you. "Alex!" he yelled, running down the Hill, a grin on his face. I noticed how the nymphs' demeanors changed immediately. Now, they were being as flirtatious as they could, and, thankfully, failing. Peter didn't even spare them a glance.

"What is it?" I asked, wondering why he was so happy.

"Ed's back."

In an instant, we were both running down the Hill, leaving the nymphs choking on our dust. I couldn't help laughing at their expressions.

We slowed down when we got to the bottom of the Hill. I looked up at where the figures of Aslan and Edmund were silhouetted against the Sun. Lucy and Susan burst out of their tent, Lucy running forward and shouting "EDMUND!" Peter stopped her, gently. Aslan looked over at us, and they both started walking towards us.

Aslan neared us and said "What's done is done. There is no need to bring up the past with your brother." He walked away.

Edmund looked a bit uncomfortable. "I guess I'd better go," I said. "I'd hurry up though, or else I'll steal all the bacon, and _then _where will you be?" Peter and Lucy smiled. I turned to Edmund. Bowing, I said "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty."

Walking over to the stone that served as our table, I sat down and began to eat, waiting for my King to come back to me.

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	11. Training, Fun Times, Fun Times

**AN: Hey! I'm back! You guys are amazing! That was a super-fast response! Thank you! Fun chapter. A lot of deleted scenes!**

About an hour later, the four of them came out, grinning and laughing. Becca had joined me, and together we had finished off the bacon. "Is he the Fourth?" she asked when she saw Edmund.

"Yep."

Peter came up, saw my grinning face, looked at the table, and noticed the absence of the bacon. "Wha-? You- Aw, man, Alex. Really? You're evil."

"Thank you. It's part payment for making me step in rabbit crap." He laughed.

"I should never have doubted you, but I don't trust you enough to sit by you. You'll probably hurt me," he said, leaning against a rock after snagging a cup of water.

"Got that right."

"I wonder why you'd hurt him, Alex, especially considering what the nymphs say you two were doing up on Paravel Hill," Becca said, a mischievous smile on her face.

"What were they doing?" Lucy asked.

"They were MMPH!"

"Oh, no you don't, you little traitor," Peter said, from where he was kneeling with his hand over her mouth, pulling her daggers out of their sheaths with his other hand.

"You forgot the ones in her boots," I advised.

"Thank you, Alex," he replied. "Dang, Becca! How many knives do you have on you?"

"Mmph."

"That was a hypothetical question, I believe," I said drily.

"Ow! Stop biting me, Lionschild!" Peter yelped again.

"Can't take it, Wolfsbane?" I asked.

"Only because she's got _fangs_, Lioness."

"You have nick-names for each other?" the girls asked.

"Only us knights."

"Wait, you're a knight?" Edmund asked.

"Yep." Peter looked at Becca. "Are you gonna be good an' not say it, or am I gonna have ta gag you?"

"Mmph."

"Okay." He let go of her and winked at me.

He stood up again, and went back to his rock. "That comfortable?" I asked.

"It's not bad."

Edmund was attacking the toast. Lucy looked at him and grinned. "Narnia isn't going to run out of toast, Ed."

"I'm sure they'll pack you some for the journey back." I looked at Peter. His face had gone serious.

"We're going home?" Susan asked.

"You are. I promised I'd keep you three safe, but that doesn't mean that I can't stay and help." Peter looked like he'd been thinking about it for awhile.

"But they need us, all four of us," Lucy said.

"We do," I added.

"Lucy, it's too dangerous. You almost drowned, Edmund was almost killed!" Peter said.

"Which is why we have to stay," Edmund said quietly. We all looked at him. "I've seen what the White Witch can do, and I've helped her do it, and we can't leave these people behind to suffer for it." He looked pointedly from Peter to me. Peter looked down.

"Well, I guess that's it then," Susan said, and got up. She went over to her bow and quiver.

Peter looked at her. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To get in some practice."

Becca and I looked at each other, grinned, got up, and started dragging the two Kings down to the fencing courts.

Drawing my sword, I motioned for Peter to do the same. He looked confused for a second, and then yelped as I slapped him with the flat of my blade. "Hey! Aren't you gonna teach me anything first?" he asked, incredulous.

"I believe in learning on the job," I replied.

"You're insane."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The nymphs had come down to watch us practice. Delah was there as well. She called out "Come on, boy! Prove you're a king and a man! Fight!"

Peter was going mainly on reflexes, which was what he did best. We fought, faster and faster, learning the other's strategies, and adjusting ours as we went. Becca and Edmund had stopped to watch us. No one in the camp would have thought that Peter would train with me, the loner. Then again, no one had thought that I would be his friend, either. He swung, incredibly fast. I flipped over backward, and then whirled in with a series of rapid strokes that ended with him kneeling, and me standing over him, poised to kill. He was laughing. I was exhilarated.

"Wow, Lioness. I didn't know anyone could fight like that," he said, his breath coming in gasps.

I hadn't fought like that in months. I'd loved every bit of it. "Who would have thought you'd be that good on your first try, Wolfsbane? You sure you never used a sword in Finchley?" I asked.

Becca and Edmund were clapping. "That was amazing, Alex!" Becca always did have faith in me. Several Fauns stepped forward. One asked, tentatively "Would you train with us, Lioness?"

"Sure," I answered. "But first, I've got to get this kid working on his technique. It's dreadful."

"Water first. Then again," Peter said, panting.

"Deal."

We walked over to the water barrels. The nymphs came up, with Delah. Delah went to me. The rest went to Peter. Delah handed me a cloth, and a bowl to fill with water. She checked my arm as I drank and then soaked myself. "Dear, I haven't seen you fight like that since you last dueled with Oreius."

"There hasn't been anyone like Peter here before," I answered. I felt a splash of water on my right, and turned to see Peter looking innocent. Too innocent. "Was that you?"

"Nope. It was my invisible friend, Clive."

"Sure it was."

I felt a huge splash of water come my way, right after I heard him mutter "Tyra."

Turning, I called out "Avra!" Fire rose up, turning the water to steam. "Not bad Pevensie. But not good enough," I said, and then threw my hands out, yelling "Silra!" He flew backwards, slamming into a soft wall of earth that he'd called up while he was flying. He fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Something had gone wrong. I ran forward, the nymphs and Delah behind me.

"Oh, man," Peter hissed between gritted teeth.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I hit it too hard and there were rocks in it. Big ones. I think it's dislocated. Ah!" I had touched his shoulder. I felt around, gently, aware that it had to hurt like heck. Becca and Edmund came running over.

"What happened?" Edmund asked.

"His shoulder," I said simply. "Talk to him. You need to take his mind off it."

Becca understood. "That was so beast! I didn't know you had magic!"

I took his shoulder gently, and then yanked, feeling the bone go back to where it should be. Peter cried out, and then looked up at me. "Thanks," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Welcome."

The nymphs hurried forward, Lionel at the front. They knelt by Peter, trying to touch him. Delah batted them aside. "Out of my way, you! You can flirt with him later, but for now, leave!" Have I mentioned that I love Delah? She felt around the bone and nodded. "You'll be fine, dear."

"I know I will, if you're the one healing me."

"Flatterer."

"Not at all."

She took out some bandages, placed them around his arm, and turned to me. "How's _your_ arm, Alex?"

"Good as new. Probably better." She smiled.

"Alright, you two. You're too much for an old woman. I think I'll go back to my tent. When I come out next, I want to see you two fighting like the pair of warriors you are! None of this feint and dodge crap. I want some real fighting!"

"Yes Delah," we chorused together.

She turned around and walked off.

Peter turned to me. "'Feint and dodge crap?'"

I nodded. "I was toying with you Pevensie. If you want, I'll fight you for real."

"I wouldn't mind that."

We stood up, brushed ourselves off, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

"Toying with me? Oh, man!" Peter was rolling around on the ground, laughing.

"You do a lot of rolling around on the ground," I said, looking down at him. " C'mon, you."

Again, we drew our swords. I wanted to get this over with quickly. Immediately, I threw myself into another series of rapid blows. He blocked or parried every one of them, and then started to attack me. I found myself being pushed back. I gritted my teeth. I was The Lioness. I was not going to let this _boy_, who hadn't been fully trained in any way, beat me. I used my flexibility and my speed to my advantage. Now Peter was the one moving backwards. We fought, using what we knew of each other's strengths and weaknesses to whatever they were worth. I slid my sword over and somehow under his hilt, and twisted, making him drop his sword. My blade was at his throat before he knew what was happening. Again, he was laughing. "That was – That was – Wow, Alex. How do you do that?"

I showed him the move, and had him try it out. He got it on the third try. We looked over at Becca and Edmund. Becca was fighting him with her knives, and every time he managed to make her lose one, she had another one in her hand before the old one hit the ground. I turned to Peter. "Time to get you a horse." We walked towards the place where the horses were. I went up to Tanwe, the Unicorn, and asked him if he would like to be the steed of High King Peter for the battle.

"What's he like?"

"Why don't you come and meet him?"

We walked over to where Peter was sitting, watching me and the horses. He had an odd look on his face. There was intensity in his eyes. I dismissed it. Why would it have anything to do with me? I came in front of him. "Peter, this is Tanwe. Tanwe, High King Peter." Tanwe bowed his head gracefully. Peter bowed as well, not as low, but still, the bow you would give to a noble. He was getting the hang of this.

"Your Majesty," Tanwe said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Tanwe. I would be honored to ride you into, and hopefully out of, battle," Peter said.

"It is the same with me, Lord King."

"Then we are at an agreement."

"Indeed."

Peter smiled. "Well, I'll leave you two to your fancy talk. I'm gonna go and talk to Shadowhunter. Call if you need me," I said. I walked over to Shadowhunter, his silvery-grey coat and black mane making him stand out as my Horse. "Wanna go for a ride?" I asked.

"What kind of a question is that? Get me out of the tiny space," he answered. I grinned and leaped onto his back. We trotted over to where Peter had mounted Tanwe. He looked confused.

"What do I hold onto?" he asked.

"Here," I said. "Aliros." A silvery rope appeared in his hand. "It's attached to him, where the reigns usually are, but he won't feel it. You'll have to tell him where you want to go or use your knees. The best riders don't need reigns. Come on!" I wheeled around, on Shadowhunter's back and I told him to go over to Phillip, a brown Horse who I thought would be good for Edmund. "Phillip!" I called. "I was wondering, would you like to be King Edmund's horse, when you go into battle?"

"Yes, I would!"

"Alright then. Oh, and by the way, when you meet him, don't let him know you can talk."

We galloped across the training grounds, towards Edmund and Becca, who were taking a break under a tree who had been kind enough to give them a bit of extra shade. I saw Becca say something, and saw Edmund laugh. I looked over at Peter, and slipped into his head. _They like each other._

_Yeah. They like each other a lot._

_How do you know that?_

_I'm a mind-reader. How do you think?_

I shook my head at him and he laughed.

_No one gets any privacy when you're around._

_Yep. Speaking of liking each other, you like me._

_Well, _duh_. I haven't killed you yet. _

He laughed. _Whatever, sweetheart._

_Flirt._

_Only when it comes to you. I'm not fond of the nymphs I've met so far. Too needy for me._

_Oh, so you've got _standards_?_

We were near Becca and Edmund now, and I climbed off Shadowhunter. Peter got off Tanwe. "Edmund!" I called. "I've found a Horse for you!"

"Really? I get a Horse? That might be a bad idea, considering my sense of balance."

Becca laughed. "Definitely. He tripped over his own feet!"

"While I was trying to get away from you before you killed me!"

"I understand how you feel, Ed," Peter said. "Alex has made me make a fool of myself, oh, nine times since we started this morning."

"Only 'cause you deserved it."

"You really need to get over the rabbit poop."

"They were my best boots! That and I'm famous for holding grudges."

"Whatever."

Edmund came over to Phillip and looked him up and down. "He's a bit big for me, isn't he?"

"Eh, but you'll grow into him."

"Eh?"

"Yes in Narnian slang, Ed," Peter explained.

"Oh."

"C'mon. You guys are boring me." I ran and leaped onto Shadowhunter's back and we flew across the plains. I heard the thundering of hooves behind me, and turned to see Peter, on Tanwe, Edmund on Phillip, and Becca on her horse, a beautiful Palomino, with the name of Lightbringer.

Peter and Tanwe raced forward, coming at a level with us. I turned toward Peter, and found him watching me. His eyes burned into mine, showing love, affection, joy, and a hunger that I didn't think had to do with food. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Then the look was gone, hidden in the depths of his eyes.

I drew my sword and grinned evilly at his resigned expression. Edmund looked back and forth between us, then shrugged and drew his sword. Becca had a knife out. We rode on, our swords flashing in the Sun as we fought. We came over a crest on the hill and saw Susan and Lucy learning how to use their weapons. Suddenly, I heard a yell. "Peter!" Mr. Beaver ran up to us.

Phillip reared up, making Edmund yell "Whoa, horsey!"

Peter and I looked at each other, then back at Edmund, as Phillip said "My name is Phillip."

"Oh, sorry," Edmund said. I snickered.

Mr. Beaver would not be perturbed. "You'd better come quick. The White Witch has requested a meeting with Aslan!"

Peter and I looked at each other, and then we leaped off our horses and ran.

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	12. The Witch and a Party

**AN: Hey! I'm still amazed! Thanks so much! Five reviews equals another chapter. Usual deal.**

We reached the main pathway leading to Aslan's tent just in time to see the Witch coming through the crowd. I felt it grow colder suddenly, and stiffened. Then I felt Peter's hand slipping into mine. He interlocked our fingers and warmth spread through me. How could the simple act of holding hands with him feel so good? How was it even _possible?_

Four Cyclops were carrying the Witch on a chair-like thing. They set her down and she stood up. She walked toward Aslan, and said "You have traitors in your midst, Aslan."

"His offence was not against you," Aslan answered calmly.

"But hers was," she said, looking at me. Everyone near us moved away, staring at me. Everyone, that is, except Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and Becca. I looked up at Peter to find his eyes smoldering with a hidden rage. His grip on my hand tightened a tiny bit. The White Witch turned back to Aslan. "Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?"

Aslan growled. "Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch. I was there when it was written."

"Then you will know that they belong to me. They will die on the Stone Table." She pointed at Edmund and I.

Before I could stop him, Peter had drawn his sword. "Come and take them then," he said, hatred in his eyes. I put my hand on his arm, and pulled at him, hoping he'd look at me. He didn't, but I heard him take a small, sharp breath when I touched him, like it had affected him.

The White Witch smiled as though she thought it was funny, and said "Do you think that mere force will deny me my right, little King?" Peter stiffened when she called him that, and lowered his sword, but he didn't sheath it. Finally, out of frustration, I simply took it from his hands and put it in his sheath, giving him a look that said _Don't push it. _

"I may be in love with you, but I can take care of myself," I whispered so only he could hear.

Meanwhile, the White Witch was still talking to Peter. "Aslan knows that if I do not have blood, as the law demands, then all of Narnia will perish in fire and water."

Aslan intervened. "Enough. I will speak with you alone." They went into his tent.

We all sat down and I watched Peter. He sent me a look that said _Talk to me. _I slipped into his head. _Hey. What's up?_

_The sky._

Really? _ I _didn't_ know that. I mean, what's wrong?_

_You okay?_

_Yeah, I'm fine, Peter._

_What's going to happen?_

_I don't know._

_Well, you're no help._

_I'm rarely any help._

_What are you guys talking about?_

_Becca! Out of my head, now, before I hurt you._

_Okay, okay. You guys were probably being all mushy anyway._

_OUT!_

_Your little sister's nosy._

_So are yours._

_True. Very true. Alex?_

_Yes?_

Do_ you love me like you said?_

_More than you know._

_'More than you know.' I knew it! You're in lo-ove!_

_BECCA! For Aslan's sake, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

I shot Becca a murderous look from where I was sitting. She was whispering something to Lucy, who giggled. They both got squirts of water in their faces. "Hey!" Lucy squealed.

Peter glared at Becca. "if you tell them, we'll do much worse to you than squirting water in your face. Believe you me." Becca cackled.

"Oh, but you wouldn't hurt _me_, Peter. I'm too cute!" she giggled.

"Wanna bet?" he asked, and faster than she could react, he was behind her, gripping her hands and pulling her daggers out of their sheaths again. When they were all out, he shoved the pile out of her reach and held her arms behind her back. "Because if you do, then we'll kidnap you and submit you to torture by fluffy stuffed animals for hours on end until you beg for mercy."

Becca's eyes widened. "Not stuffed animals! You'll kill me!"

"That's the point of the threat."

We were all laughing now, and the people around us were looking at us like we were strange.

I felt a cool breeze on the back of my neck and remembered the Witch. Everyone else did as well. Peter came over and sat by me. Edmund was picking at the grass. We waited for the Witch to appear.

I turned toward the tent when I heard the Witch leave it. She stopped for a moment watching Edmund and I. Just for fun, I gave her a cheery smile, and waved. Peter snickered and squeezed my hand. Following my example, he gave the Witch a cocky grin that would infuriate me.

Aslan came out of the tent. We waited with baited breath for the verdict.

"She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood." Cheers erupted everywhere. We stood up. Lucy hugged Edmund.

"And how do I know this promise will be kept?" the Witch asked.

In answer, Aslan roared.

The Witch sat down.

We Narnians? We had a party.

An impromptu celebration was underway. I turned toward Aslan, and felt my smile slip away as he watched me, a sad expression on his face. I let go of Peter's hand, and walked over to him.

"Lord King, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, Alexa. Go back to your friends."

"Aslan, I know you're lying. You know I know you're lying. What's wrong? Please, Father. I want to know."

"It's something you can't know, My Daughter."

"Was me telling Peter I was Gifted with killing something he couldn't know?"

"Child, he would have found out soon enough."

"And it will be the same with this. Either you tell me yourself, or I'll find out later."

"Alex."

"Father, please."

"I can't."

"Alright, Lord King. If it is what you wish."

"It is." I turned to leave. "Oh, and Alex?"

"Yes?"

"Not admitting to the others that you and Peter are in love is the same as me not telling you what is wrong."

"When you tell me, I'll tell them."

He sighed, and smiled that lion smile. "Sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good."

"Only because you're my Father."

"Go on, Alex."

I went. Lionel was close to Peter, congratulating him for something. I listened to what she was saying. "You were so incredibly brave when you threatened the Witch, Peter."

"Or incredibly stupid, as Alex kindly showed me," he answered evenly. "Where were you?" he asked me.

"Talking with Aslan, my King, about things that you wouldn't understand." I took his hand. Lionel glared at me.

"Oh, sure."

"Really!"

Becca ran over. "Alex! They've got food!"

"It's said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," I joked. "Apparently it's the same for Lady Knights." Peter laughed. We headed over to the table that had been laid out. It was getting dark.

Some Fauns were running back and forth with great armfuls of firewood. Lucy ran up. "Alex! Peter! Becca! They want our help lighting the fire! We get a colorful bonfire tonight!"

"Alright!" We jogged over. I looked at Peter. "Ready?"

"Wait! Everybody, watch the mages!" one faun called out. All heads turned our way.

"Three, two, one," I said so only Peter, Becca, and Lucy could hear. "Avra!" we said together. Green, blue, silver (the color of Becca's magic) and purple fire shot from our palms, and the logs were set ablaze. I focused heard, and made the flames gold and red. Pictures danced in them. I made Aslan's face come up, made the flames rise higher, and then made him _roar_. "Let's see the Witch face that!" I yelled. "Are you ready to win this thing?" The army yelled, drawing their swords, knives, daggers, arrows, axes, and other, various pointy objects. "FOR NARNIA! AND FOR ASLAN!"

About an hour later, I sat down next to Peter, and watched the flames. His arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me close to him. I laid my head on his chest. A few minutes later, I was asleep.

**AN: Again, review.**


	13. Preparations

**AN: WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Sobbing. Ect. Ect. Aslan dies. I hate HATE this part. Can't help it though. Have to put it in there. Darn story line.**

I woke when I heard a voice, speaking my name. Lashing out, I grabbed my sword and looked around wildly for my unknown intruder. A tree nymph. "Be still, Lady Knights. I bring grave news from the Queens."

Becca and I sat up, watching the nymph. "What is the news?" I asked.

"Aslan is dead." Sheesh. Way to put it out there.

"No," I breathed.

"Yes, My Lady."

I heard Becca choke, trying to hold back tears, trying to be strong.

I stood up, and stumbled to Aslan's tent. I couldn't see anything but the ground in front of me. I looked inside. Aslan was gone. I sank to my knees, the horrible weight of grief spilling over me. I turned and a half-ran, half-staggered to the boys' tent. Becca was already inside. I took one look at Peter's face, and started to shake. He walked forward, and pulled me into an awkward hug, the kind you would expect from two friends of different genders. He jerked his head toward the tent opening, looking at Edmund and Becca. "Ed? Becca? Could you – Could you go and tell Oreius? We need a minute."

"Sure Peter. Come on Becca."

When they were gone, Peter pulled me into a firm embrace. I cried into his shoulder, hating myself for my weakness. When my eyes were dry, I looked up at Peter, and saw a determined expression on his face. "Come on, Alex. Let's go win this war."

Peter went to check that Aslan really was gone, just in case in my disoriented state I simply had not seen him. When he came back out, he told us "It's true. He's gone."

Edmund looked at him. "Then you'll have to lead us. There's a whole army out there waiting to follow you."

"I can't."

"Aslan believed you could, and so do I."

I put my hand on his arm. "I'm willing to follow you to death and back, Peter, if it means that Narnia will be free." He looked at me.

Oreius spoke up. "What are your orders, Sire?"

Peter stared down at the map and bit his lip. I looked up at him and whispered, "Pictures in the snow, on the lake." He remembered.

"We'll put the archers on the cliff. Ed, Becca, you'll be up there directing them. Alex, Oreius, you'll be beside me when we start. Foot-soldiers in the front. Calvary, in the back. We'll have reserves in the rocks. Gryphons will do recon. We'll start with a charge . . ."

We planned through the early hours of the morning, going through it over and over and working out kinks. I immersed myself in possible battle tactics, trying to get rid of the grief of Aslan's death, or at the least, stall it for a while. Finally, we were ready.

Three hours later, I found Peter in the boys' tent, trying to fasten his chain mail, and, apparently, failing. I stepped up behind him, and did it for him. "Not as easy as it looks, is it?" I asked.

"No, it's not." He turned around and saw me in my battle armor. My shirt was silver chain mail, and over it was a black leather tunic, with sheaths for my knives in the inside. My pants were black leather, two layers, and in between the layers were silver plating, for extra protection. I had on my usual black boots, and my sword belt, with my dagger and sword in their sheaths. My bow and quiver, filled with arrows, was at my back. No helmet. They block out my peripheral vision. My hair was braided with its leather-spiked strap in place. I was ready. His eyes roved over me. "You look . . . fit for battle."

"As do you, now that you've figured out your armor." He smiled, and shook his head.

"Alex. I'm scared," he said, his smile disappearing just as fast as it had come.

I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm scared too, but at least we can be scared together."

We walked out, hand in hand. Becca and Edmund came up, wearing their battle armor and looking nervous. I looked up at Peter, to see him looking out at the Plains of Beruna. I stared out as well, and then saw what he had seen. The tiny figure of General Ottman was moving around on the other side of the field. The Witch was beside him, in a chariot. On her armor was a mantle made of a lion's mane.

**AN: Cliff hanger! (sorta) Review! Five reviews and I'll post another chapter. Thanks!**


	14. The End Of The Beginning

**AN: Battle scene! 'Nuff said**

I stared out at the Plains of Beruna. The army was behind me, the Witch's army in front of me, and Peter was beside me. We were on our horses: Peter on Tanwe, me on Shadowhunter. Oreius was on Peter's other side. I heard the sound of a Gryphon call, and turned my head. Leraondi, the Gryphon commander, flew toward us, landing beside me. "They come, Your Majesty, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own," he said, speaking to Peter.

"Numbers do not win a battle," Oreius said.

"No, but I'll bet they help," Peter told him, looking worried.

I looked up. Ottman came up onto a rock that jutted above the Plains. The Witch came beside him, in a chariot pulled by polar bears. She was in a chain-mail dress, and the Lion's mane stood out amongst all the dark colors. I felt a lump form in my throat and forced it to stay down. I would not cry. I would not show weakness.

Behind her, the Witch's army showed themselves. Oreius was right; there were a lot more of them than there were of us. I felt fear start to come into my gut and my stomach was slowly turning itself into knots. I forced that down too. Ottman let out a huge roar, and the Witch's army started forward. Peter drew his sword, and raised it. The Narnians cheered. Peter turned to me. "Are you with me?"

It was Oreius who answered. "To the death."

I only had to look at him for him to know that I would die for him.

"FOR NARNIA! AND FOR ASLAN!" The battle cry soared in volume above any other sound. Peter thrust his sword forward and we started the charge.

**AN: Cliff hanger! Love to write 'em, hate to read 'em. Review! five reviews = another chapter! Thanks!**


	15. The Beginning Of The End

**AN: Battle scene!**

Adrenalin fueled my every move. My sword was a blur in the air and I threw my knives at every chance. My quiver was empty before the charge was over, as was my crossbow. A cloud of arrows flew over me and embedded themselves in the Witch's army. I could smell the odor of battle; blood and fear and anger and sweat and horror all coming together to form an overwhelming stench of devastation. We killed loads of them, but still they came. Peter was beside me, fighting with the same relentless energy, spurred on by fear. Wave after bloodthirsty wave of enemy soldiers came at us. As soon as one was killed, two more were there in its place. I finished off a Minotaur that had his sights set on Peter, and turned, seeing the hundreds of soldiers bearing down on us. They never seemed to end. I turned towards Peter, knowing that he knew it was hopeless unless we pulled out to a more advantageous point. I heard rather than saw him shout "Pull back! Pull back to the rocks!" due to a particularly evasive pair of dwarves who were intent upon killing Shadowhunter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something weird. It looked like a . . . boy, about the same age as Peter, with blonde hair and black eyes. He was dressed in all black, with no armor, and riding a black horse, racing towards me.

Before I could think about it, my Horse wheeled around, only to feel Shadowhunter start to fall from under me, and heard him scream. I cried out "No!" Shadowhunter was down. I threw myself over him, trying to save him and stop the flow of blood. I heard the thunder of hooves racing towards me, but ignored them.

Shadowhunter, my sarcastic, pessimistic,_ amazing_ Horse died in front of me. Something broke. I cracked. I rose, hatred showing in all my features, and _fought. _They died under my hands but nothing could ever compensate for the death of Shadowhunter. Nothing but the death of the Witch. I felt a hand grabbing me by the back of the collar and felt myself being pulled onto a horse: Peter. That was when the tears came. I buried my face in his back and cried, long and quietly, but I still cried. My Horse, Shadowhunter, was dead. And the Witch was going to pay for it.

We raced towards the rocks, our swords swinging, but I was all on automatic. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't hear, couldn't feel, couldn't see, couldn't do anything. I just couldn't.

We were at the rocks. Fury suddenly surged through me. I was off the Unicorn in an instant, and fighting all over again. I lost my sword and then regained it. I saw Becca, fighting with her knives, and grabbing daggers from dying enemies. I heard a yell, and turned to see Peter falling off of Tanwe, as the Unicorn died. The Witch was only about 50 feet from him, moving slowly in her chariot, arrogant. Oreius and a Rhino charged towards her. I heard Peter yell "Stop!"

They didn't.

Oreius killed Ottman first and then leaped towards the Witch. He missed. She swung her sword and her wand and turned him to stone. That sight made me angrier. The Witch started to walk, slowly, leisurely, towards Peter, who was busy with a Minotaur who refused to be killed. I heard him yell to Edmund, who was fighting an ogre a few feet away from me "Ed! There's too many! Get the girls, and get them home!" Edmund was grabbed by Mr. Beaver and practically dragged up onto higher ground. They started scrambling up the rocks. Then he saw the Witch, and he saw the way she twirled her wand, like she was going to freeze Peter but was going to take her time about it. I knew what he would do, but I was powerless to stop it. He ran down and slammed his sword onto the Witch's wand, breaking it.

I threw myself in front of him, just as her sword drove into my stomach. I froze, standing stock-still. Strangely, there was no pain. None. I heard Peter yell in a strange, muted, garbled voice. I couldn't make out what he was saying. Then, the Witch started slowly, too slowly, pulling out the sword. That was when the pain came. I screamed a raw, agonized, scream. My insides felt like they were turning to fire. My skin felt like it was turning to ice. There was nothing in my brain but pain, pain, pain. I was getting tunnel vision. The world was going fuzzy. Time seemed to freeze. The sound of the battle faded to nothing. I fell, still screaming, still in horrified agony. I landed on the ground, and the screaming stopped. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I couldn't smell. I couldn't feel the pain that was turning me numb. I could only see the steadily growing pool of crimson liquid, flowing from my stomach, going from red, to brown, to grey, to black.

**AN: Another cliff hanger! (you'll hate me for this, but just review and wait) 5 reviews equals another chapter! Thanks!**


	16. Wake Up Call

**AN: ANNDDDDDD . . . wait for it . . . I'm back! Second to last chapter! THANK YOU to all my faithfull reviewers for tolerating me!**

I woke up to the lovely view of . . . wait for it . . . a white, marble ceiling. Groaning, I sat up painfully, and looked around. I was on an impossibly soft white-sheeted bed. A bedside table was to my right, with a glass of water and my dagger on it. My sword belt with my sword in it hung from a hook next to me. It was the same for my bow and quiver. A mahogany trunk was at the foot of the bed. There was a chair at the side of the bed. The room's walls seemed to be curtains. I looked down at myself. I could feel bandages around my middle and I was wearing clean clothes: a simple white shirt and black pants. My boots were beside the bed, on the floor. I heard a sound to my left and whipped my head around, to see Delah coming in my room. She smiled when she saw I was awake. "You've been in here two days. We thought you'd never wake up. Your King was scared that you wouldn't, but Aslan said you would be fine. It's the reason you didn't get any cordial. Peter and Aslan got in a huge argument about it. I had to step in, or they might have come to blows."

My eyes widened. Peter argued with Aslan so I could have cordial? It was unheard of. "Why?" I asked.

"Aslan said that if you hadn't died already, you would survive. Such is your Gift."

I leaned back into the pillows. "Where is Peter now?"

"Coming."

In the next second, I heard boots on the marble floor. Way too many to just be Peter. I waited for my King to arrive. Slipping through the curtains, Peter walked in. He was dressed simply, with a white shirt, black pants, boots, and a deep red vest with gold embroidery that matched his sword belt. I noticed he had made an effort to be as casual as possible. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and his shirt was untucked and open at the neck. His vest was unbuttoned. As soon as he saw that I was awake and well, he sank into the chair, and just stared at me. I reached out and touched his hand. When I did that, he seemed to come alive again, and in the next second I found myself being crushed in a bear hug. I hugged him back, just as hard. "Oh, my Lioness, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered.

We sat there, holding onto each other, just relishing in the fact that we were both alive. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I pulled away and asked "We won, didn't we? We're not in Aslan's Country, right?"

"Yes," he whispered. "We won." He pulled me back. I looked up and noticed the other people in the room. There was no way Peter had invited them, because Lionel was one of them. I smirked at her. She sneered back. I love being me.

Delah has this thing where she knows exactly what I want, when I want it. She went over to the people, and said "Only five visitors per patient. Please leave." They turned and left. Delah left as well, probably going to another patient.

"When's the coronation?" I asked.

"Tomorrow. You woke up just in time."

"Thank Aslan. Who were all those people?"

"My stewards, attendants. They're basically baby-sitters in fancy clothes. I don't know if I'll be able to stand having them around for the rest of my life."

"Once I'm outta this bed, I'll take over."

"Good. Lionel was scaring me."

"Really. You need to learn how to deal with the flirting."

"I'm used to light flirting, not that kind. She terrifies me."

"An' she terrifies me too, but do you think I show it?"

"No, but you're the Lioness. I just be Wolfsbane."

"But you're also a King. My King."

"True."

"You're dressed very casually."

"Yeah, they hate that." I laughed,

"I'll bet they do." He stood up. I stood up with him.

"Are you sure you're well enough?"

"I just slept for two days. I think I'll be fine."

I reached over and grabbed my weapons, pulling them on and enjoying the familiar weight of my sword at my hip.

We walked out, hand-in-hand. "Where are we?" I asked. This wasn't the infirmary, it was too beautiful. Everything was white, and the room was made of marble, with lots of long, tall windows. Sunlight streamed in through those windows. I caught a glimpse of the sea from where I was standing.

"We're in Cair Paravel, in the Infirmary. If you think this is amazing, you should see the Grand Hall. It's fantastic."

"I'll bet it is."

"It is."

"Describe it to me."

"I don't have to. We'll be there in a minute."

We continued to walk. I marveled at the statues, (marble. Not the awful granite statues that the Witch made.) This castle was perfect. Every detail was put there with loving care. We came to a huge set of oak double doors. Peter pushed them open. My jaw literally dropped. "And this," he said, "is the Great Hall."

It was white marble, like so many of the rooms here. There was a glass roof, and too many windows to count. Beautiful tapestries lined the walls, mostly depicting Aslan, but some were scenes from Narnia's history: The Lord Digory and the Lady Polly coming with the apple that protected Narnia, King Frank and Queen Helen at their coronation, the Queen Swanwhite finding the Lost Diadem that saved Narnia, and countless others. There were also new tapestries, ones showing scenes from our adventures: Peter killing Maugrim, Edmund breaking the Witch's wand, Lucy meeting Mr. Tumnus, and Susan being presented her bow and horn. I was in the hangings too: fighting with Peter during training, riding Shadowhunter with Becca on Lightbringer beside me, and me, moving silent and unseen in between the trees of the forest, a shadow of hope. The floors were a mosaic of glass and silver, on top of more white marble. There were columns all around the Hall. Four thrones stood on a dais at the end of the room. I loved it immediately.

Peter smiled down at my wide-eyed wonder. "You have the exact same look that we all had when we first saw it," he said.

"Alex! You're awake!" I turned toward the sound of the voices, and saw Becca, Edmund, Lucy, and Susan running toward me. I let go of Peter's hand so I could engulf Lucy in a hug, and then hugged Becca and Edmund.

I stopped at Susan, and gave her a questioning look. She went right ahead and hugged me. "I'm sorry for the way I acted," she whispered into my ear. "I feel really bad that I was so mean to you."

"It's fine," I whispered back. "I didn't exactly like you when we first met either."

I looked around and saw Aslan. Walking forward, I stopped half-way and knelt.

"Rise, Alexa, My Daughter," he said. I stood up and moved forward. My King. He was alive. Aslan laughed in his Lion's way, and I couldn't help myself. I ran forward and nearly tackled him, burying my face in his mane, laughing and crying at the same time.

"You're alive. You're alive. You were dead, though. Father, you were dead!"

"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic I taught you, My Daughter?"

Realization spilled over me. "If an innocent sacrifice is made in a traitor's stead, then Death itself will unravel."

"Exactly."

I grinned. Turning, I walked over to my friends, and found them laughing and joking in our typical fashion. Peter grinned at me, laughing. "Alex, we've been waiting for you to wake up before we went exploring."

"Well, shall we go explore then?" I asked.

"Yeah!" we all said at the same time, and then looked at each other and roared with laughter.

Fun times, fun times.

**AN: What'd'ya think? Last chapter coming up! Five reviews = another chapter!**


	17. The End    For Now

**AN: Last Chpater! You people are amazing for hangin' with me throughout this crazy weird ride! Thanks!**

The coronation was a somber affair, to everyone but Becca and I. We were in the back, in a corner alcove that still gave us a good view, and there was mutual teasing all around. "Look at Peter, look at Peter. You probably think he's handsome."

"Same to you about Edmund. I saw you two holding hands. Quiet. They're bringing out the crowns." We watched with the proper decorum (sort of) as the Beavers brought the crowns up. Two silver, two gold.

Mr. Tumnus came forward as well, in a new scarf.

"To the glistening Eastern Sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant," Aslan said. Mr. Tumnus stepped forward, and took the small silver circlet of metal that looked like leaves and vines twisted together, and placed it on Lucy's head. The crowd burst out cheering. We clapped and laughed at Lucy's amazed expression.

"To the great Western Woods, I give you, King Edmund, the Just." A silver, more, well, crown-like crown was placed on Edmund's head. Clapping and cheering filled the Hall.

"To the radiant Southern Sun, I give you Queen Susan, the Gentle." We cheered on Susan as she accepted a gold crown that looked just like Lucy's, only bigger.

Silence filled the Hall. It was Peter's turn.

"And to the clear, Northern Skies, I give you High King Peter, the Magnificent." The Hall erupted with cheers; forget about clapping, it wasn't loud enough. Peter stood up, a look of triumph and happiness on his face. His eyes found me, and he grinned.

When the noise died down, Aslan turned to them and said "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia."

Beaming with happiness, the four of them sat down. We all called out "Long live King Peter! Long live Queen Susan! Long live King Edmund! And long live Queen Lucy!"

Peter found me later, on the beach. I had skipped out on the party, preferring to celebrate on my own.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Why are you down here by yourself?"

"I like my solitude, and I haven't gotten much of it in the past few days, 'cause of you lot."

"Well, you missed the part where the Fauns pressured Edmund and me into a fencing match."

"I would have loved to see that."

"He won."

I burst out laughing. "You'll never be able to live that down."

"Nope."

"It's a good thing. It'll make you humble."

"I'd better go back, or they'll think I've been kidnapped."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Sweetheart." He turned and left.

"You'll be staying, then?" It was Aslan.

"Yes, Lord King."

Aslan smiled. "Stay with Peter, My Daughter. It isn't easy running a country, and it's even harder to run a world." I laughed.

"Walk with me, Alexa." I did so. I watched the sunset, wishing that this day would never end, but knowing that it had to.

"Things are changing, child," Aslan said. "Hopefully for the better. Peter is now High King. The Witch is dead. But it will not always be so. The Four must leave this world. When they do, will you go with them, or stay here?"

"I suppose I'll stay here," I said, even though my brain was screaming that if I did, I'd leave Peter behind.

"Thank you, child. Narnia will survive with you in it. But remember, your time, too, must come."

"Yes, Lord King."

"I must leave now. Be good."

"I'm always good." He was walking through the surf. I was standing on the beach, watching him.

"Goodbye, My Daughter."

"Goodbye, Father."

_Fin._

**AN: I can't beleive I finally finished it! You guys are, yet again, amazing! Thanks!**


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